


oh, this little thing?

by dependsupon



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dependsupon/pseuds/dependsupon
Summary: Patrick finds the clothes from David's party boy phase and it doesn't end up as badly as David thinks it will.





	oh, this little thing?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/gifts).



David had forgotten all about the closet in the honeymoon suite. Most of the clothes he’d dumped there fell firmly in the “Garish Evidence of David’s Rave Days He’d Like to Forget But Much Too Expensive to Give Away” category. So, naturally, he hadn’t thought of them in months. That was, until Stevie dumped them all unceremoniously on his unmade bed.

“Um…” David looked up from where he was trying to fit a significant amount of flowy fabric inside a much less significant suitcase. “What are these doing here?”

Stevie held his gaze, deadpan. “They’re yours.”

“These don’t… look like mine.” He was starting to remember, and hoping maybe if he feigned ignorance he wouldn’t have to double his already very strenuous packing job. Unfortunately, David was a very bad liar at the best of times, and Stevie had caught him off-guard.

“Sure. I stored them for you, remember? How you were so infinitely grateful that I generously made space for your treasured two-thousand-dollar sweatpants and,” she held up a particularly embarrassing item, “designer fishnet bodysuits?” She was doing a terrible job concealing her smirk. David was affronted, not least because a), he’d bought that bodysuit while under the influence and should not have to shoulder the blame for it, and b), those were Swarovski crystals and he couldn’t possibly be expected to just… _discard_ them, could he?

David snatched the bodysuit from her hands and buried it deeper in the pile. “Okay, I don’t remember being quite to grateful, but whatever.” He regarded the avalanche of clothing with vague distaste. “And what do you expect me to do with these?”

“Take them to your house. Where you live now.”

“Oh, I’m just supposed to hang this up next to all thirty of Patrick’s practical blue button downs and hope he doesn’t notice?” David’d voice was becoming slightly more hysterical than was strictly necessary, and he was brandishing the bedazzled bodysuit at Stevie a little forcefully for a man who’d just tried to conceal its existence.

“ _I’m_ just glad I don’t have to explain _that_ ,” she nodded to the offending bodysuit that David was going to burn at his earliest convenienve, Swarovski or not, “to _my_ fiancé.” She walked out, not even trying to hide her amusement at his expense, but not before he made a very offended noise at her back.

Fuck.

 

“What’s in here?” Patrick was staring concernedly at a bulging sack that was definitely not a heavy duty trash bag, and David nearly had a heart attack right there in the softly-lit bedroom of their new apartment. He’d had it all planned out—he would hide the bag in some inconspicuous corner, never look at it again, and Patrick would never find it. So maybe it wasn’t that elaborate of a plan, but it would have worked. It was just that finding yet another apartment, moving into it with your fiancè, and trying to plan a wedding, not to mention running an entire business, all at the same time was very hard work. So, understandably, it was a few weeks before unpacking had been even close to finished, and once again the bundle of clothes had flown from David’s mind. Patrick, however, had had other plans, involving a sudden determination that they would get through all the unpacking that very evening and promises of rewards for all the hard work.

David closed his eyes. Maybe when he opened them the bag would have disappeared. He opened them. No such luck. He'd climb out the window if they weren't two stories up.

“Oh, uh, just—things. You know, effects. Odds and ends. Nothing important. Mm, don’t—“ David had rambled too much, and Patrick had taken the opportunity to open the bag. He looked delighted, and David had a suspicion that it wasn’t because of his impeccable fashion sense and appreciation for craftsmanship.

“Oh, David. What do we have here?”

David elected, with extreme dignity and aplomb, to hide his face in his hands. “I hate you.”

“But you love irreverent crop tops, clearly.” David peeked out of one eye. Patrick was holding up a very small top, had David really worn such small tops?, with the words _Baby Slut_ splashed across it in pink. David groaned. Patrick, like Stevie, was very bad at concealing his amusement at David’s pain and suffering. Muffled by his palms, David mumbled something like _I bought that fifteen years ago_ , or maybe it was closer to _If you promise never to speak of this again I'll do all the inventory for a month_.

He felt the bed dip beside him, and slowly uncovered his face to see Patrick’s unexpectedly interested expression.

“What?” He was still feeling a little defensive, and it came out maybe a little sharper than he’d intended.

“I’ve never seen these before, David.” Patrick was doing that thing where he made an obvious statement in a way that still managed to make fun of David.

David glared, half playful, half embarrassed. “Obviously not.”

“Honestly, I’m a little offended you couldn’t trust me with your secret.” Patrick’s eyes were absolutely twinkling with mischief.

“Fuck off!” David shoved halfheartedly at his fiancé.

“Oh? That’s a shame,” Patrick said, putting on a little too much of a show of being disappointed. He even sighed. “Oh, well. Guess I won’t get to wear this for you, then.” He tried to sit up, but David grabbed his arm. He was aware he was being baited, but he didn’t care.

“Okay, nobody said they didn’t want that.”

Patrick’s expression went just a little darker. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” David tried to say, but he was having just a little trouble breathing. Leaning back on his elbows, he watched Patrick unbutton his shirt, unpacking utterly forgotten. What an excellent little unforeseen benefit of a frankly very tasteless part of David’s life this was, he thought, as he watched the muscles of Patrick’s torso shift as he pulled the shirt over his head. David had forgotten how long it had been since he’d worn that—it stretched across Patrick’s stocky frame much more than it was strictly supposed to. David couldn’t be bothered to mind, though, not when Patrick was looking at him with a little playfulness and a lot of heat, not when he could see Patrick’s pale stomach lit from the side (by a very nice lamp he’d picked out, thank you).

David let out a breath. “Okay, I’m officially mad we didn’t do this sooner. Like every day. I really can’t believe you’ve been depriving me of seeing you in crop tops for years.”

Patrick dropped onto his hands and crawled over David, who couldn’t help noticing how nice his shoulders looked under the thin black fabric. “I’ll be sure to correct that error in the future,” he said low in his throat, and kissed David deep and hard, not bothering with starting slow. David met his open lips, grabbing at his shoulders, his back, pushing one hand underneath the hem to run it over Patrick's chest, still very upset they hadn't discovered this much sooner. 

 

Patrick was breathing hard, the shirt bunched up over his chest and divested of sensible clothing, which was to say, all of it. David lay half on top of him in a similar state, sans clothing entirely. Patrick lazily rolled his head to face David and said, voice a little husky, "So we're going through that bag tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, very much so, absolutely." David nodded against Patrick emphatically. After a moment, he ran his hand up the length of Patrick's torso and rearranged the shirt so the test could be clearly read and smirked. "Baby slut."

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure, i'm in the throes of a different special interest right now so it was hard to focus on this. that said i'm very sorry because i fully intended to earn a higher rating but i ran out of time.... i may or may not be planning a sexy addendum, however, to repay for my neglect of this extremely good prompt, and hopefully what i have was entertaining enough to tide you over


End file.
